


come and lay by my side

by harleysdiamonds



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-23 15:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30057651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleysdiamonds/pseuds/harleysdiamonds
Summary: arthur and the women in his life. (ongoing)
Relationships: Eliza/Arthur Morgan, Mary Gillis Linton/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Mary.

\--

He's made her a makeshift bed from hay bales, a soft wool blanket draped overtop. She had scoffed at the arrangement, but settled in beside him all the same. They watched the midnight stars for a few good minutes of unspoken silence from the giant tear in the old barn's roofing. 

"This is real nice, Arthur." She whispered softly, gaze held to the skies above them. 

He turned his head toward her, genuine surprise faintly heard in voice. "Y'think so?"

"I can't quite recall the last time I really took a good long look at the stars. It's beautiful." 

Arthur shrugged. Life out on the prairie, he's known no different. Wide open country made the world seem infinite, and the skies more so. He was happy to be back west and far away from the smoke and tar of big cities. And if it were lighter out, she'd surely see the redness swelling on his cheeks in the form of a blush. "Well, I -- well, least it don't smell too much like horse shit in here no more." 

There's a gasp from her, followed with a playful swat to his arm. "Arthur Morgan! Be quiet, you."

He can't help a grin at that, hands thrown up in surrender. "Sorry! Sorry."

"Way to ruin the moment, you big oaf." She tried to scold him, but her chuckling said otherwise. 

"You've got a lovely laugh." 

"Oh, hush up."

"I mean it." He said in earnest, turning over on his side to face her. His hand traced feather-light down her arm. The softest he'll ever be for anyone. "Your smile too. Could light up this whole room." 

"You lovely man." She cupped his hand, stared at them both. One calloused and one dainty. The pretty lady and the outlaw. She could read about a dozen similar stories in those dreadful dime novels. If her father could see her now...  
"I wish we didn't have to do all this sneaking around." She murmured, more to herself than to him. 

"I know. Maybe... maybe one day we won't have to." His eyes fell away from her, and he thought back to the diamond ring he saw on display in town many months ago. He pictured it, and a silly little idea slowly crept its way into his mind.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked. 

"Nothin', just .. it's nothin'." He shrugged once again and made a mental note to stroll back into town the following day, see if that ring were still up for sale.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliza.

\--

"I don't know much about fathering." He was looking anywhere but her stomach, round with child. The shock had yet to subside completely. 

"And you think I know about being a mother?" Eliza was firm, one hand on her belly. "Look at me." She pressed him. "Please."

Slowly, he did. That's when it became real and no longer avoidable. Seeing it now, he had only one thing to say to her. "It's mine?" 

"It is."

\--

"He's got your eyes. That pretty blue-green." 

The tiny infant stirred in his lap, held close and safe in his arms. "Yeah, he does, don't he?" 

"Looks just like his father." She smiled. 

Arthur laughed, lightly shaking his head. "Ah, for his sake, let's hope not."

\--

"I wanted to apologize for bein' gone so long. And I'd understand if you can't forgive me." He had no other way to phrase it. No other way to make her see his side. She was too good for him. Just like Mary. 

"Oh, don't start with that." 

"With what?"

"Actin' like there ain't no choice in it. You got a choice. You're just too stubborn to see it." Her voice spoke of pain, knowing whatever she'd say would make no difference. As Issac grew, so did her impatience -- and so did her dreams of the boy having a father never absent. 

He frowned, his eyes narrowed and his words came out more harshly than he meant to. "Been doin' it long before I met you. Don't forget that." 

"Don't mean a thing." 

"But it does." He could see this was hurting her. The way her face fell. The way her hope crumbled. And he hated himself for it. "Means everything. Means I ain't the type of man who knows about livin' on the good side of the law."

"Oh, I know what type of man you are." She snapped at him, wanting nothing more than to shake him by the shoulders, hear him admit it. Admit that he could give up on all his wrong-doings and make a home with her. Deep down, she knew he wouldn't ever give her the full truth. "You're the type of man who's gonna get hisself killed."

\--

The door had been kicked in, items tossed carelessly across the room. He called for her, called for his boy, and received no answer but silence. 

Two wooden crosses would greet him in the backyard that foggy morning of 1890, fresh dirt piled in front of each.


End file.
